The Boogie Man Curse
by OzRatbag2
Summary: Is Hermione doomed to a life fraught with fear, or can Severus find the answer?
1. The Background

** The Boogie-Man Curse**

Original Prompt: Hermione has been cursed. Rather than harm her physically, her attacker went after her mind. She's now paranoid and terrified of everything, and refuses to leave her home. Since the curse is dark in nature, Snape is sent in to figure out a counter-curse. For reasons he can't figure out, Hermione only feels safe with him. Can Snape remove the curse? Who cursed Hermione and why? H/C and romance with a happy ending, please.

Author Note: Written originally for the 2010/2011 SS/HG Exchange, for one of my favourite authors and a wonderful friend - SSHG316 - Shug. :) I have taken the essence of your prompt and fiddled with it-a bit. I hope you enjoy the story that resulted, even if it has deviated just a smidge from teh story you perhaps were thinking of. Many thanks to fabulous Scattered Logic who listened to my numerous excuses and who betaed thsi story so quickly for me.

**The Background**

Sensation, it was that initial cacophony of sensation. The sights, sounds and smells, well, one smell in particular overpowering her all at once.

Honeysuckle.

Sickly sweet, pervasive and out of place in the midst of so much bloodshed. But there it was, tickling at her nose and overlying even the cloying tangy odour of burnt flesh and congealing blood. But why honeysuckle and why now? Perhaps she was dying and instead of the alluring aroma of freshly baked bread, Hermione was left with this heavy perfume invading her nostrils. In fact, it really smelt as though someone had vomited honeysuckle in her immediate vicinity, though why defied logic. The giggle of fear and nervousness, as though she had other things to be going on with other than the visual spectre of honeysuckle blossoms being expelled in the thousands from some unwitting person's mouth. Oh, well, it was infinitely better than slugs Hermione had to suppose. But, there was something else, something she had ignored and fought, even with it overhanging her logical self.

Fear, blinding fear, and it was fast giving way to absolute panic. She was trapped, hearing strange voices around her yelling and shouting curses. If she didn't get down, they'd get her too. Why and with what she didn't know, but she had to escape, get out, or hide. Yes, hiding sounded good. And so she rolled herself into a tight ball and sought to make herself as small as possible. It was then that she heard it - laughter - so out of place in this setting, and it was particularly jarring. Unwilling to see who was so amused by her cowering, Hermione found that it was beyond her ability to unravel herself from her tight bundle of limbs and take a peek. In fact, it seemed imperative to get away, to hide, to find a safe hole to crawl into. But where to? The castle behind if not in ruins, was damaged at some point, the crumbling and explosive sound of rock shearing away with the force of the curses hurled its way was quite apparent to her raw nerves. Apparate? No, no that was unwise and she thought quite possibly suicidal, though why that thought occurred was just added to the tangle of emotions she was rapidly losing ground to. Unwittingly, Hermione repeated her mantra of hiding over and over again, edging herself into hysteria. Rubbing her nose vigorously as if that alone would push the smell of honeysuckle away and centre her thoughts, Hermione was so startled she shrieked when the hand lightly touched her shoulder...


	2. The Foreground

**The Foreground**

"Settle down, Miss Granger. You are safe."

'_Safe is such a relative term_', Hermione thought sagely as she mentally tried to place the raspy voice whispering next to her.

"In case you're at all interested, I found you out there," Severus waved absently towards the castle lawns, "shaking uncontrollably and babbling some nonsense about honeysuckle. I can think of nothing so sweet fighting its way through the snow. You've been here for the last four days this time, gibbering nonsense, and I've been unable to rouse you - until now."

The voice was familiar, but it eluded Hermione. Her eyes were aching from being pressed so firmly shut, as if that alone would keep her unharmed. But unharmed from what? It was all very nebulous and she was unsure of what time it was and who was taking the care to talk quietly to her, as though instinctually knowing that her nerves felt as though someone had rubbed over them with coarse sandpaper. Cruciatus, that had to be it, but through all of her study, this blinding fear and paranoia had never been mentioned. Maybe it had been omitted, or it was unusual, or...or what?

It sounded as though she was losing her mind and all she could think about was the god-awful scent of honeysuckle, but Hermione thought it rather poor form to try and gouge the scent out of her nose especially with an audience.

Cracking her right eye carefully, lest this be some trick or figment of her imagination, Hermione then opened her left eye and started blinking rapidly to clear both the sleep from her eyes and try to focus on her surroundings. Turning her head to the left slowly, Hermione was greeted by the sight of Severus Snape, his brow furrowed and a look of concern painting his features. He looked old, no not old, older, the wisps of grey throughout his hair her only guide. It was all very strange, and as she opened her mouth to ask for something to quench her parched throat, Snape put up one hand and spoke firmly.

"I'll thank you not to scream again. My eardrums are still ringing soundly from your last effort."

Closing her mouth, Hermione swallowed audibly, wincing as she wondered why her throat was so sore. Perhaps she'd screamed more than she had thought, or had been unconscious for so long that a dry parched throat and mouth was the first clear symptom of it?

"How? I mean, water," Hermione croaked, holding her hand over her throat as though that would somehow help clear the discomfort.

"Please, Professor, water."

Snape looked at her piercingly and stood carefully, never turning his back on her. Hermione felt in that moment like an injured wild animal. His slow cautious movements seemed designed not to startle her and cause her to bolt in fright, though why he was behaving so cautiously was yet another question to add to the mounting pile vying for prominence.

"You're sounding remarkably lucid this time," Snape observed softly.

Hermione furrowed her brow, wondering what on earth he could mean by that softly-delivered comment. Other than the clink of the glass pitcher on the tumbler, there seemed to be no other noises or people for that matter around.

Hermione attempted to sit up, but found that she was too weak. Her world upended yet again when Snape methodically put down the full tumbler on the bedside cabinet and leant over to move her pillows up the bed before he turned and gently lifted her into a sitting position. Saying nothing he stood back cautiously and warily handed the tumbler to Hermione.

It was only then that she realised that her hands were shaking, sloshing some of the icy water onto the front of her gown. Gown? Hermione paused to look at her surroundings properly. She was in the Hogwarts Infirmary, which she thought was the obvious place to be if she had indeed been found outside on the snow-ridden lawn. Turning to face Severus Snape again, Hermione opened her mouth, a look of confusion painting her face.

"Drink this first, if you please. I will answer anything I can, but I'm not sure how much time we've got for the discussion we need to have." Severus said wearily.

Hermione felt the questions and queries milling around her brain, each one tumbling like so much flotsam on what was turning out to be a very rocky shoreline. Lifting her shaking hands towards the tumbler in front of her face, Hermione reflexively opened and closed her stiff fingers as though that would still the shaking. It didn't work, but it was only when she winced that she turned her palms to her face to discover four perfect half-moons on the palm of each of her hands. The skin looked as though it had been broken countless times, and when she looked more closely at her fingernails, there appeared to be dried blood under several of them.

Hermione looked more closely at Snape then, horrified and uncertain that what she was seeing was actually happening. It was a bad dream, a nightmare of epic proportions. That had to be it, didn't it? But, she seemed real enough and the look of concern of Snape's face even more upsetting, though she had no idea why. It was only then that she realised the most startlingly change to the oft-remembered harsh angles of Snape's face.

"You've grown a beard."

Severus sighed audibly, rubbing his forehead with his right hand, and then Hermione watched as he dragged the same hand down his face and over his beard to his throat.

"Yes, for about the hundredth time, yes, I have a beard. Now, before your mouth runs away with your thoughts, I beg of you to drink. No," Severus interrupted neatly as Hermione reached for the tumbler, "I will hold it for you**. **I had hoped that your hands might be steady enough, but obviously I was wrong yet again. The last time I let you hold the cup, I had to sedate you before Poppy could get near you. We have at best two hours, and I'd rather not waste them going over old territory. Do you understand, Miss Granger?"

It was the bite to his voice as he said her name that made Hermione shake her head even as she acquiesced and allowed Severus Snape to slowly give her sips of the icy cold water.

Severus snorted all the while encouraging Hermione to take some more of the water. "Honest as always, I see. There you go, not much more and then I have some questions for you. I will answer what I can for you, but for me to help you, I need to know everything-everything."

Hermione nodded slowly, and it was really only then that she realised that everything hurt, now that the water had slaked her dry and abused throat. Reaching a shaking hand to the back of her neck, she first felt for any obvious injury and then tried to shake the stiffness from her arms and hands yet again. The pain along her disused and wasted muscles started almost immediately and the cramps in her calves startled a gasp of pain from her.

"Here, drink this, Miss Granger," Severus said hurriedly as he tipped a vial of something into the last few drops of the water and placed a hand behind her head to steady her movement and allow Hermione to drink quickly. "It will take away the cramping and stiffness almost immediately without making you too drowsy."

Hermione reached forward, her shaking hands covering Snape's, and urged him to tip the contents of the glass into her mouth quickly. Spluttering and coughing as some of it went down the wrong way, Hermione reached up with the back of one hand and sloppily wiped her mouth. Her sigh of relief as she could feel the muscles releasing their hold was almost instantaneous , and she flopped back on the pillows behind her. Whatever that vial had contained also seemed to still her shaking for which she was eternally grateful.

"Thank you," Hermione said quietly as she turned her head towards Snape.

"You are most welcome and once I hit on the right formula, I too was thankful I could stop your cramps so effectively. But, I'm getting ahead of myself, and I do have some things I need to ask you, if you don't mind?"

"Ask away, Professor. I'll answer anything I can."

"Good. Now, can you tell me what year it is?" Severus held up both hands quickly as Hermione whipped her head towards Snape's voice at the left of her. "Me first, Miss Granger, and then if there is still time, I will answer anything you wish to ask me. Agreed?"

Hermione settled back onto the pillows, and Severus took this as her permission to sit down in the chair next to her bed and begin.

"The year if you will, Miss Granger."

"1998 I think, though if it's snowing then it might be 1999, but if you're asking, sir, then I... I suppose I really don't know," Hermione said in a small voice, clearing her throat nervously as she finished.

"Well, let's leave the year alone for the time being, shall we?" At Hermione's cautious movement of her head, which Severus took as an affirmative response, he continued. "Can you tell me please, what's the last thing you remember?"

"Remember about what, sir?"

"The fighting when Voldemort attacked the castle, Miss Granger, and anything else you can tell me about that day would be most helpful too."

"Well," Hermione stopped and tried to gather her jumbled thoughts together. "I remember the sounds, and the smells of the fighting. It was horrifying. I never realised it would smell like that. That I would be able to hear all that pain and suffering as though the fighting was right next to me, even if it was some distance away. If I'd known, really known what it was going to be like, I might have, well, it's stupid to hypothesise, but the permeating odour of burnt flesh and congealing blood. That's what I remember most about it all."

"Anything else? You always keep mentioning honeysuckle. You have from the very start, and I'm intrigued. I need to know everything about your memories surrounding honeysuckle. No, don't look so sceptical, Miss Granger. If it wasn't important, I wouldn't have asked you to remember something so seemingly innocuous."

"I hate honeysuckle; I always have," Hermione said vehemently. "Oh, don't get me wrong, professor, I like the initial scent, sweet as it is, but it lingers and is pervasive. That's what I hate about it so much. It's that it gets into everything and getting the smell out is almost impossible."

"A wave of a wand would suffice to rid the fragrance if it causes such a strong reaction in you."

"Which is all well and good, Professor," Hermione replied through clenched teeth, " if I didn't go out of my way to avoid the stuff as a witch. My memories of honeysuckle are those of childhood. My great aunt loved the smell, and as a child it always made me feel sick. Every vase in her flat was stuffed with it, and she never ever seemed to open a single window when we visited her. I loved my great aunt, but the smell." Hermione wrinkled her nose, unconsciously rubbing it as though a long-forgotten memory had triggered the scent. Looking deliberately at Snape, Hermione added, " Is that enough of a memory for you, sir?"

Severus smirked at the bite in Hermione's voice, pleased in spite her continuing angry looks. Her reaction was interesting, and despite the open scepticism written all over Hermione Granger's face, it was a useful memory to drag out of her. He only hoped that her lucidity would last long enough for him to solve such a horrendous puzzle.

"Quite. Now we are getting somewhere. Can you smell anything unusual now, or immediately after you woke up?"

Hermione sniffed and tried to remember anything as she woke up, but it was like a tantalising snippet of knowledge that lay just out of reach.

"No, Professor. I can smell you and," sniffing her own hand, Hermione continued, "I can smell me, but everything smells clean, sterile even."

"Hmm. I'm not sure how pleased I should be that you can smell me as you say, but scent or odour seems to be important to you. I'm not sure how or why though. But you've only answered half the question. Do you remember anything else just before you awoke?"

Twitching her nose unconsciously, Hermione said in a clear voice, "yes, burnt flesh, blood and...and honeysuckle. But why would I smell something I go out of my way to avoid? It doesn't make sense, does it, Professor?"

Severus stood abruptly then without saying anything else and moved over to the solitary window on the far wall. Hermione guessed that it looked out over the grounds from the way Snape's features contorted. Leaning down to put his hands on the sill, Severus laid his forehead on the cold glass and took several deep breaths, before he seemed to remember that he had an audience and moved away from the window to look searchingly at Hermione.

"My apologies if I startled you, Miss Granger, but my legacy from the war seems to be that I am forever thinking about what happened to you. I count it as one of my worst failures that I still haven't worked out exactly what debilitated you so that day."

"What did happen to me, sir? I mean, I have to have been injured to be here, right? I'm in the Infirmary at Hogwarts, aren't I, or am I somewhere else?"

"Yes, this is Hogwarts, and Madam Pomfrey and I had a difficult time keeping you here at first. Your '_friends_' wanted you moved the St. Mungo's but as neither Poppy or anyone else we have consulted has any idea of what your disparate symptoms mean, we both felt it was more prudent to give you shelter here instead."

"You make it sound like I've been here for a long time, sir. How long have I been here and what is the year? Wait a minute, you said I was outside babbling about honeysuckle. That is what you said isn't it, Professor Snape?" Hermione asked hurriedly, falling over her words as she tried to figure out the mystery of why she was currently ensconced in a single room in the Infirmary, instead of being in the ward proper.

"I see I'm not going to get anything more from you until I answer your questions, am I, Hermione?" Severus asked tiredly, though he knew what her answer would be before he posed his question.

"I don't think you've ever called me anything except Miss Granger before, sir."

"I spoke without thinking, Miss Granger. Forgive me, I am quite tired after your latest relapse."

"I didn't say I didn't like it, sir, just that I hadn't ever heard you say my name. Relapse? What do you mean by a relapse? That suggests I've been ill for some time. I need to know, sir. I have to know...everything," Hermione said forcefully, thumping the bed with her hands.

Severus dispelled the mounting tension with a simple bark of laughter and shake of his head.

"Well, nothing has changed on that front. You have always needed to know everything. You hold the key to this whole mystery, and so I will indulge you yet again. Ask away and I will answer any question you put to me."

"Again? What do you mean by again?"

"Ah, well, you remember my initial query about the year? Right, good." Severus continued as Hermione nodded warily, "It is not, as you supposed, 1998 or indeed 1999, but a full twelve years further on than that."

"Twelve years! But how? I..."

"I know it's a shock, Hermione, but we have been through this before. You just don't remember, and I have no idea why you have such a focused amnesia. Though I suppose," Severus said absently, the mounting horror of what he'd witnessed over the years leeching into his reply, "it's entirely a good thing in this instance. It has made narrowing down what happened to you during the battle all the harder though. I am getting closer I think. You've never mentioned honeysuckle in quite the same context before and it's obviously a strong childhood trigger for you...but why? That is the real question I just can't quite grasp."

"Have I been here at Hogwarts the whole time?"

"Yes. We, Madam Pomfrey and I, could keep you secluded here far more effectively than elsewhere. It was not a popular option, and both Messrs Potter and Weasley wanted you in St Mungo's. I think it was not so much Poppy's care they couldn't stomach, but mine. Also, and it's another enigma in this whole conundrum, you flinched and cowered away from everyone. Even Poppy told me she had to give you increasingly large doses of sedating potions so that she could tend to your injuries."

"But, if that was the case, how come you can sit here with me?"

"Well, after I was found in the Shrieking Shack, I was brought here to the Infirmary to die essentially. Except that I didn't and that too is another mystery for another time. Anyway, I was at the far end of the ward behind a screen, but Poppy has told me that it didn't matter how sedated you were or if you were physically restrained in your bed, you would always be found in the foetal position sleeping on the floor next to me. I have no idea why and neither does Poppy. We have questioned what we could possibly be missing over and over again. The only thing we do know is that you were asleep and that you not only walk in your sleep but also talk in your sleep."

"But I've never done either, ever I think. I mean, I lived in a dormitory for six years and trust me, Lavender and Parvati would have mentioned it continuously-and they never did. They would have told everyone too," Hermione finished bitterly. "Lavender especially would have made it known to the whole of Gryffindor given half a chance."

"You did not like Miss Brown?"

"Not really, no, and I have no reason to doubt that the feeling was mutual. Oh, I don't think I hated her as such, but we had almost nothing in common. She wanted nothing more than to be admired for her prowess at hunting out the best beauty charms and boys, whereas I wanted to learn, and to find myself and my place, if that makes any sense."

Hermione sighed and then thought she may as well complete the picture for Snape by adding, "Lavender and I only ever really clashed about Ron. He thought it great fun to have two girls fighting over him, and I thought he was worth fighting for - for a while."

Sighing, Hermione looked down at her abused hands, picking at the stray bits of skin she could see easily. She still couldn't quite believe she had been in some sort of delirium, she supposed it was called, with no one knowing even how to counteract it. Looking up sheepishly, as though a confessing a childish hurt would have made Snape impatient, Hermione could detect nothing but compassion written all over his face. He was looking at her steadily, though he did not interrupt her own internal musings.

"So, if you're at Hogwarts, Professor, are you teaching Defence or Potions?"

"Neither, Miss Granger. I have not taught a class here for nearly ten years."

"But, why would you be here if you aren't teaching? Are you Headmaster, sir?"

Severus snorted, all the while shaking his head slowly, a small pursed smile lighting up his features. It reminded Hermione of someone with a delicious secret, but he didn't wait for to her ask innumerable questions as she searched for the answer.

"No, Miss Granger, Hermione. I am no longer your Professor-I'm your Mediwizard."

Hermione knew she was gaping and making inarticulate sounds as she tried to valiantly to think of something to say in response to his bald statement. The man in question, '_her_' Mediwizard was meanwhile trying not to laugh at the spectre of Hermione Granger lost for words. It was a losing battle, which only became more apparent when he laughed out loud, slapping his hands on his thighs to emphasise his mirth.

"You, know, had I realised all those years ago that I need only have said something you thought completely unbelievable to render you silent, I may have had a great deal of fun at your expense. Had I thought about it closely enough, I would have mentioned it earlier too."

Hermione ignored his last statement in favour of trying to fathom just how she had come to rate her own personal Healer. Hermione could hear the humour in his voice and see the wide grin on his face, and it was incongruous with the person she had thought of only as her Professor. Looking, really looking at him for the first time it seemed, Hermione mentally catalogued the changes to the ill-tempered, and at times, malicious man she had known as a student. Gone were the heavy austere black robes, and in their place navy, broken only by two thin white bands on both cuffs. Then there was the beard, short and neatly trimmed which followed the line of his neck. His neck-that was the most startling change she could think of, other than the personality transplant. Gone were the high starched Victorian collars. In their place, a simple cowl neckline. When Hermione met Severus' eyes after her inspection, she was met with one perfectly arched eyebrow and a continuing look of mirth and happiness she supposed it could be called. Her view of the previously dour man shifted on its axis in that moment.

"But, why, and why me? I mean, how, no. Oh, I don't know." Hermione made a noise of frustration as she tried to think of something coherent to say or ask. "So, that's why you call me Hermione. I mean, you've obviously called me by name for a long time, I guess."

"I have indeed, far too long in actual fact," Severus said wistfully, the smile vanishing from his face. "No, don't look so affronted. I did not mean it as you suspect. You don't remember, that much is clear, and I can find no curse or potion that renders a person so debilitated as you've been. I'm missing something important, and it's extremely frustrating." Severus looked closely at Hermione then as if trying to divine the one thing that might solve the mystery for him-just one clue, any clue.

"Are you sure there is nothing else you remember from that day? Anything, no matter how inconsequential might just be the one clue I need to give you back your life."

Hermione did not need to look at Snape to hear the desperation in his voice. Shaking her head almost reflexively, Hermione scrubbed her abused hands over her face, rubbing her eyes and trying to tease out something she honestly couldn't remember. Grabbing handfuls of her rat's-nest of hair, Hermione scowled and could sense there was something important just out of reach.

"No, nothing. It's all a jumble. I want to know, but honestly, I can't remember anything. The last thing I remember is trying to hide, to crawl into myself. And I was dizzy too, though I've no idea why."

"Ah, well, the dizziness is easy to explain. You were found panicking and 'gibbering nonsense' I was told. Hyperventilating as you were and are during one of your relapses, causes the dizziness. You had to be stunned and transported on a stretcher rather than Mobilicorpus'd as is the norm."

"Stunned? Why did they need to Stun me?"

"No one could get near you. You lashed out at anyone who tried to help you, even your erstwhile companions, Messrs Potter and Weasley. The Mediwitch triaging on the lawn confirms this. She was the one who immobilised you as it happens. You had cuts and scrapes all over you according to her account, but no apparent magical curse signatures, which given the carnage around you is unusual in itself. I've checked her written recollections over and over again, but she is correct. Nothing magical, well, nothing detectable at any rate was found attached to you, or even around you. So, do you understand now why..."

"A vacuum," Hermione interrupted quietly, "or perhaps a shield of some description might explain that."

"I had thought of that, but discarded it out of hand. Shields are by their very nature protective, and so '_good_' for want of a better description. Given my previous career I have never seen one that is malicious and dark in origin. That doesn't mean there isn't one, just that it seems unlikely."

"But, couldn't a shield also protect something or someone from escaping a curse or charm with malicious intent as well?"

Severus sounded absolutely stunned as he replied, "I hadn't honestly thought of that scenario, but I believe Filius and I may be ensconced within his rooms or the Library very shortly."

As if to reinforce the point, Severus reached in to his pocket and pulled out his fob watch, noting the time with an increasingly curious look on his face. Looking carefully at Hermione, Severus carefully snapped the case closed and searched her face almost frantically.

"What? Why are you looking at me like I'm about to explode, sir?"

"Because, it's two and a half hours since you woke, and I've never seen you awake this long since the battle. Something is different this time, or perhaps whatever has afflicted you is dissipating? As I don't know exactly what happened during the fighting, and you don't remember, Poppy and I have been left struggling to treat your symptoms, instead of pinpointing the cause. Have you got a headache or any pain, Hermione?"

"No, should I?"

"If your relapses hold true to form, I should not be talking to you right now. Poppy will be wondering what has happened," Severus added absently, looking behind him towards the closed door. "Something is different this time, but I've no idea what - and you're far more lucid this time too. That's a good thing, even if I seem shocked about it."

"You keep talking about relapses and as tired as I feel, I want to know exactly what you mean."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea myself. Oh, and you may as well call me Severus too. You might not remember, but you have done so before and every time you call me sir, I remember a past I'd just as soon forget."

"Perhaps it's not a good idea, Severus," Hermione started to say, deliberately calling him by name, "but that doesn't mean it isn't the right thing to do."

"No, I suppose not, but I will edit my reply to a degree if you don't mind."

Severus looked carefully at Hermione for an agreement before he continued. Leaning forward in his chair, Severus scrubbed his hands over his face and began to speak slowly and deliberately.

"A bit of history first I think, Hermione. When I found I had indeed survived, though it was precarious for quite a while there, Poppy as I've already said, always found you next to my bed sleeping peacefully on the floor. She was at her wits' end as you had not responded to any of her treatments or my store of medicinal potions. As you seemed settled when close to me, she moved your bed near mine. It apparently worked well until the Ministry Aurors arrived to arrest me for the Headmaster's murder. That was your first relapse, for want of a better expression. You lashed out initially, but as soon as one of the Aurors tried to move you bodily so that they could get to me, you started talking nonsense and shaking uncontrollably. You also curled yourself into a tight ball, clenching your fists so hard that blood seeped out where your fingernails had pierced your palms.

"Poppy said you were unrousable from your terrors until I was released six months later and returned to Hogwarts. By then of course, your physical condition had deteriorated to the point where Poppy was quite sure you were near death. She also had no way to truly assess your mental state either. You looked awful, not that I was a picture of health by any stretch of the imagination.

"You looked like nothing more than a bag of bones. Emaciated and wasted, you again seemed to settle when I was near. Poppy and I still do not know why, given the fact that our only interaction previously was as student and teacher. Of course, Mr Weasley jumped immediately to the wrong conclusion the first time he saw you talking to me, and insisted that you be moved away from my coercive influence, but both Poppy and Minerva vetoed that action. You would be completely mad without their efforts I might add. A drooling shell in a nameless ward in St Mungo's is a fate no one deserves.

"Once Poppy had healed me from the tender mercies of Azkaban, I did initially start teaching Potions again, but I found that if I stayed away for too long, or was caught up with a detention and the like, you would be all the worse for my absence. You would have a 'relapse' and be unrousable from whatever terrors were chasing you. Every time you awoke, a little more scarred and damaged, you had absolutely no memory of what had happened during that time. It does not matter how much I tell myself that I have looked for every possibility, it is equally horrifying to watch you descend into your other self."

Severus let out a huge sigh then and looked up at Hermione's face for the first time since he started speaking. Seeing the tears tracking down her face freely worried him, and made him feel instantly guilty for acquiescing to her demand for answers. But she seemed focused and not exhibiting any of the signs that pointed to another relapse which was something he did not expect. Leaning forward again on his seat, Severus placed his hands over his face and allowed Hermione the time she needed-and he needed to recover from the shock he'd just delivered. Far better for her not to know that he'd removed every mirror from the room and ward, or that her face bore the ravages of whatever afflicted her. Hermione had, for want of a better expression, aged before her time. Severus remained ever hopeful that the damage wrought could be undone once he found a full cure for her symptoms. It was galling to know that he had for the last twelve years merely chipped away at the edges, every small step counted as a major victory, but it was never enough. It never would be enough.

Hearing movement from Hermione as she sniffled and coughed, Severus looked up at her again and reached into his pocket for a handkerchief which he passed wordlessly to Hermione with a small smile to reassure her - he hoped.

Her tentative smile in reply was tempered by the fact that she looked completely worn out and exhausted. Severus was torn between wanting to give her a chance to rest and wanting to continue to try and get any information that might help him in his further research. Hermione neatly ended his internal debate by looking closely at him before she started to ask yet more questions.

"Thank you, Severus. As hard as that was for both of us, I needed to know exactly what has been happening. I might not remember again, but I hope I do. I've lost twelve years, and I'd like to not lose any more if it's possible. So, is that how you became a Healer? I don't quite understand how or why you'd change career paths for me."

"No, I suppose not. I was not the kindest teacher." Severus snorted at Hermione's sage look.

"Well, it's a remarkably simple extension of what I was doing for you in all my free time. When I couldn't find anything that might alleviate some of your more debilitating symptoms, Poppy and I began corresponding with other experts around the world. We didn't limit ourselves to magical world either. We were and are desperate to find anything that might help, and my career change came about simply by virtue of all the extra research I was doing. Poppy actually suggested it after one more fruitless day of researching. Yes, I was shocked too initially, but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed to make perfect sense. Every one of my colleagues wrote me a reference and an approach was made to St Mungo's to see if I could apprentice with Poppy. To cut a long story short, they were initially quite hostile to the idea, but once they had sent two of their Healers to review you personally, they gave their permission almost instantly. Because of my Potions background, I actually only served an eighteen month apprenticeship. As you will hopefully remember, medicinal potions form the bulk of the Hogwarts curriculum. Malicious or dark potions are in fact less than ten percent of all known potions. It's part of why your condition is so difficult to treat. It bears no resemblance to any of the dark potions currently known, or it does mirror some of them, but not completely. As I was already personally invested in finding a cure for you, becoming a Mediwizard might make more sense. It gave both Poppy and I more time to research, and we both care for you equally."

"So lots of foolish wand waving for you now I suppose?" Hermione asked with a distinct edge of humour and a large smile.

Severus laughed then, instantly dispelling the sombre atmosphere in the room.

"Oh, yes, but also a lot of things done without magic too. Complex spells and charms seem to not bother you, but it's the simple things that make you react strongly. It's another piece of this whole frustrating puzzle, but it's as though someone has given me an experimental trial to conduct, but not given me the necessary parameters to understand the efficacy of its individual parts."

"So, I'm essentially a potion in flux, which I have to say is infinitely better than being a raving loony."

"I rather like that analogy actually. The potion in flux, not the '_raving loony_', that is. You should never think of yourself that way, Hermione. This is something that was done to you. That makes you both a victim and a survivor in fairly equal portions actually."

"Thank you, Severus. I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," Hermione replied with a bright smile and a faint blush on her cheeks. "Had I heard you say something that heartfelt when I was a student, I may have suspected that you had been the one cursed."

Severus suddenly looked at Hermione as if seeing her clearly for the first time.

"Nice, simple...not complex, triggers, childhood, hurts, senses. Oh, my, it really couldn't be that simple, or could it?" Severus muttered to himself rapidly.

Hermione looked at Severus as he stopped the disjointed words and looked at her steadily before he again abruptly stood and started pacing around the room, dragging his hands through his hair. It was disconcerting the way Severus was looking at her, but not uncomfortable. He had thought of something, that much was certain. But what, and was it just another dead end? Stopping at the end of her bed, his hands braced on the frame, Severus opened and closed his mouth several times as if unsure what to say, or indeed how to phrase it.

Clearing his throat audibly, Severus finally managed to ask his question.

"Hermione, what do you think about me? Do you hate me, or more correctly have you ever hated me? Bear with me please. It's quite possibly the most important question I will ever ask you about all of this, but I also need an honest answer from you. Do you understand?"

"Umm, I never hated you exactly," Hermione started to say nervously, looking at Severus as he made an impatient movement with his hand for her to continue. "I certainly didn't like you, and when you made that quip about my teeth in fourth year in front of everyone, I think I came fairly close to loathing you, but despite the fact that neither of us have mentioned it, I do remember you lying in a pool of blood on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. I felt utterly helpless. It was horrible, as though everything I had been taught had come to naught in the face of you bleeding to death in front of me. That's why you have a beard, isn't it? It covers the scars."

"Yes, but surely that can't be all you remember about me? The truth, all of it. It is important and you need to vocalise it. I can't tell you why at the moment, but if I'm right, and I hope I am, I need you to tell me right now, Hermione."

"Do I hate you now? No, of course not. You have spent more than a decade looking after me and trying to cure me. I won't pretend that I know you, but perhaps it is that our roles are as they were when I was a student. You know far more about me than I think I will ever fully know about you. I don't resent that, or maybe I do? I don't know." Hermione shrugged her shoulders.

"But, those are your recollections at the end, as an adult, or near enough. What I need to know most of all is what your impressions were of me as a child."

"Well, you scared me, mostly. You'd slam the door of the classroom on your way in and make everyone jump. I'm sure you got your jollies from keeping everyone on edge, but most of all, it didn't matter what I did to earn your attention and respect, you ignored me, or called me stupid or a know-it-all. You had to know that it hurt-a lot. So, no, I didn't like that person at all, but we are no longer those people are we, you perhaps most of all, Severus."

"No, and it's a time I regret, but that's why hindsight is only ever wishful thinking. I can never go back, but it's my very great hope that you can go forward."

"I hope so too," Hermione said wistfully.

"Do you think I might be able to leave you alone for a moment? Well, a little more than a moment. I need to talk to Poppy and Minerva and arrange for some things to be put into action. The sooner the better actually. Have you a headache or any pain, Hermione?"

"No, none at all, but I am famished. Is there any chance I might be able to get..."

"A cheese and tomato sandwich and a pot of tea, perhaps?" Severus asked, with a wide grin at the shocked expression on Hermione's face.

"How? No, never mind, I already know the answer," Hermione replied absently, his broad smile leaving her no other option but to return it.

"I'll just get that for you and then be on my way. Poppy will be wondering what's happened if I don't reassure her soon. I'll be as quick as I can, but I also need to stop at the Library on my way back."

Severus turned then and opened the door to Hermione's room. Hermione saw quite clearly that there was another door that she guessed must lead into the Infirmary proper. Hovering in mid-air though was a tray laden with more sandwiches than she thought she could eat in a couple of meals. Severus returned carefully and placed the tray on a stand immediately to her right, drawing it closer so that Hermione didn't have to reach too far. Pouring her tea carefully into a mug, Severus snagged a sandwich and left abruptly without saying anything else.


	3. The Ending

**The Ending**

Severus, true to his word returned very quickly, though it was hard for Hermione to gauge the time in anything other than sandwiches consumed and mugs of tea drained. He looked cautiously into her room initially and then came through very quickly once he realised she was still awake. Hermione's eyes lit up the minute she spotted the large and obviously very old book he held firmly in one hand. Making his way back to the chair on Hermione's left, Severus sat down and immediately started searching the book. Having found what he was looking for, Severus was pleasantly surprised to see that some of Hermione's pallor has dissipated, and she looked downright eager to get her hands on the book in his lap.

Chuckling to himself at the look of pleasure on Hermione's face, directed as it was to the old Potions book seemed to startle Hermione from the direction of her gaze.

"My apologies for taking so long, Hermione, but Minerva kept me longer than I anticipated. Once I show you this page and you've read it, I should have the ingredients I need to end this once and for all. Oh, and there are quite a few people outside who want to see you as soon as we know it works too."

"But, they can't. I need to get up and look presentable."

"Poppy said almost exactly the same thing and once I'm sure this potion works, Poppy will help you shower and dress. She's actually running around getting that organised for you right now."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Now, I need you to read this," Severus said as he stood and placed the book in Hermione's lap, his finger pointing to the relevant curse.

"The Boogie-Man Curse? You're kidding? It's a children's fairytale, something adults use to scare children into being good."

"In the Muggle world perhaps, Hermione, but it has had far more reaching consequences for you in the Magical world, has it not? Now, before you dismiss it out of hand, you need to read this - out loud, please."

Looking at Severus sceptically, Hermione looked down at the page Severus had pointed to, and began to read slowly.

"_'The Boogie-Man Curse, first recorded in 1539 and regarded as restricted almost from the time of its first known use, renders any child upon whom it is cast as susceptible to re-living hurts and those things that the child fears most. Its effects remain largely unknown over an extended period of time, as the potion is easily made and immediately counteracts the effects of the curse. It should also be noted that it must never be used by adults on other adults, as the effects are significantly magnified and can be much harder to counter.'_"

Drawing a deep breath, Hermione looked up at Severus who nodded and pointed to the words in front of her again.

"_' In adults, the cursed witch or wizard is prone to extreme paranoia and panic, as well as exhibiting either extreme hate or fear. The cursed individual will also seek out the nearest person known to them, with whom there is a history of fear and other torment. In this way, the curse is always present, and continues to torment its victim, until the victim either forgives the past transgressions, or suffers ever more debilitating curse symptoms. Scent plays an important part for the victim in identifying the culprit responsible for its casting. It is, at this time, unknown how this occurs, but any changes to the individual ingredients should be tempered by the knowledge that this factor has only been tested in a small number of cases. The Boogie-Man Curse has been noted to cause death in the most severe cases when the curse is concentrated into a small area. If death is not immediate, then the cursed individual is slowly driven mad. There is no known cure if the potion is not used**. **Forgiveness of a transgressor negates some of the more pronounced symptoms, but it should be regarded only as a temporary remedy, rather than a cure.'_"

"You were legally an adult in the Wizarding world when it was cast on you, Hermione," Severus said quietly noting Hermione's look of extreme shock.

"I can't believe I didn't find it or think about it until now, and I had to ask Albus' portrait in the end anyway. He pointed me straight to this book, which has been aged to look older than it actually is. It's in the Restricted Section, so whoever used it against you had to have found it there. According to Albus, it's the only known reference to the curse, so someone went out of their way to use it on you too, and I think I know who."

Hermione looked at Severus, the question of who would hate her so much that casting it could be masked by all the fighting around her, clearly written all over her features.

"I don't know for sure, but it's my guess that if the potion works, I will have a '_house call_' to make very shortly," Severus added menacingly. "But, now, Hermione, I have a potion to make, and a theory to test. Neville Longbottom is sourcing the two most important ingredients for me as we would have to wait for Spring otherwise. I won't say any more for now, but I hope this works. I'll be back as soon as the potion has cooled, and then you can start putting this behind you. How does that sound?"

"Go...good. Almost too good to be true actually," Hermione said brokenly. "But, why? Why would someone do this? What did they hope to gain from it all?"

"If the potion works as I think it will, I will drag the answer in front of you-by force if necessary. Minerva has practically begged to come along with me. Soon, very soon, Hermione. I'll be back with the potion, I promise."

Fifteen minutes later, though it felt far longer to Hermione, Severus returned with a small gold cauldron, crossing the room quickly to stand at the foot of her bed.

"You will not enjoy the taste of this, Hermione, but it's made. Neville came through spectacularly, and the ingredients he was able to source are of the highest quality. As soon as he knew the potion was for you, he went out of his way to call in some favours. What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You called him Neville, not Longbottom, or stupid, or anything else really."

"We have called each other by name for years now, and it's easy to take for granted the things you have missed, Hermione. I hope that will change very shortly though. Now, I need you to drink all of this, and you must not gag or spit any of it out. The reference is most insistent on that point."

Severus moved to Hermione's side then and held the cauldron firmly between his hands. Nodding to Hermione, he gently began to tip the contents of the cauldron into her open mouth.

Hermione's first instinct as soon as she smelt the grassy floral scent of the potion, heavily laced with honeysuckle was to spit it across the room, but she supposed that Severus would not have been so insistent on her drinking it all without gagging without good cause. Using the thumb and forefinger on her left hand to pinch her nose, Hermione waved her right hand to try and hurry Severus to tip the rest of the potion into her mouth quickly.

Once she'd swallowed the last drops in the cauldron, Hermione closed her mouth, still unsure that she wasn't about to expel the potion across the far wall.

Severus said nothing but watched closely to see if there were any recognisable changes in Hermione's features. Just as he was despairing that he had identified the wrong culprit, Hermione exclaimed loudly and looked at her healed palms. No broken skin and no scarring. Looking swiftly to her face, Severus watched the ravages of the curse being reversed by the potion. Her scarred and prematurely wrinkled skin, cracked lips and reddened nose transformed right in front of him. Hermione looked at Severus then. The look of wonder on his face was almost more than she could stand, and he had tears in his eyes. He made no effort to brush them away either.

"I had never thought...I would ever see you healed, Hermione, and I promise you I will never make you go anywhere near honeysuckle ever again."

Hermione laughed then and suddenly realised that nothing hurt. She still felt terribly weak, but not like she'd been run-over by the Hogwarts Express-several times. Without saying anything, Hermione opened her arms, one hand brushing the cauldron out of Severus's hands. Tugging him forward by his sleeves, she urged him to come closer to her. Understanding only at the last minute, Severus moved forward and into Hermione's arms, allowing her to hug him and thank him over and over again.

Stepping back reluctantly, Severus said, "I'll just go and get Poppy so she can help you shower and get dressed, and then there are quite a few people who would like to see you if that's all right?"

"You'll come back won't you, Severus?"

"I will, I promise, right after Poppy has worked her magic on you."


	4. Afters Anyone?

**Afters Anyone?**

Severus did come back of course, though he remained on the peripheries of the conversations flowing around Hermione. It goes without saying that Minerva insisted on being left to deal with the culprit herself. She felt she could get the answers far more easily than Severus, though it was mainly her observation that whilst Severus had been acquitted of one murder, a second would be '_careless._'

Minerva was right of course, and in an exclusive expose detailed by _The Quibbler_, Lavender Weasley (nee Brown) was brought to justice by her old Head of House under the guise of a job interview. Mind you, the extra strength Veritaserum brewed especially for the occasion by Severus helped immensely.

Severus formally handed over Hermione's care and recovery to Poppy Pomfrey on the same afternoon that he had cured her. He was very circumspect about his reasons, but with references from both Poppy and Minerva, he was able to secure a senior position at St Mungo's almost immediately. He continues to call Hogwarts home, as does Hermione.

Severus gently explained to Hermione after she had healed fully how he had finally deduced the person who had cursed her so callously. Her memories of honeysuckle acted as a trigger of sorts, though without Hermione's honesty, he would never had the made the connection between an overpowering scent and a cloying, malicious person.

Hermione recovered quickly physically, but it took far longer for her to gain some sense of her own self after so long a seclusion from the world. She is currently studying hard in an attempt to be the oldest student to complete her N.E.W.T.S. She has no idea what to do as a career, but Neville Longbottom has already offered her an apprenticeship in his Herbology supply business. Severus, naturally thinks it's an offer that is too good to refuse. The thought of discounted ingredients from the best supplier in England means nothing of course.

Minerva and Poppy are happily playing matchmaker-and succeeding admirably.

**THE END**

**Original Prompt:** Hermione has been cursed. Rather than harm her physically, her attacker went after her mind. She's now paranoid and terrified of everything, and refuses to leave her home. Since the curse is dark in nature, Snape is sent in to figure out a counter-curse. For reasons he can't figure out, Hermione only feels safe with him. Can Snape remove the curse? Who cursed Hermione and why? H/C and romance with a happy ending, please.


End file.
